Satisfaction
by poetif
Summary: An argument, an insult, a pat search. With these two, that combination can only lead to...E/O. Dick Wolf owns the characters. I only happily use them to entertain you guys. As per FF, the T rating is for harsh language and adult themes but no actual sex acts are described herein. And if you don't like the story anyway, I offer a 90 day money back guarantee. Oh wait...


**AN: Hello out there E/O fans! Lol. I'm back again with another one. I'm seriously blocked on my script so I gotta get my writing in where I can. Characters belong to Dick Wolf but the story is mine, blah, blah blah. Please feel free to review!**

"We could've been killed."

"I apologized," Olivia tells him. "What more do you want me to say?"

"I want you to say that you'll drop by the academy to brush up on your pat searches," Elliot responds with an attitude.

"It happens to even the most seasoned cops," she excuses. "It wasn't a strip search, we were on the street and I was _kind of_ busy making sure he was at least in handcuffs."

"Still," he says. "If the asshole was a better shot-

"Enough!" Olivia yells. "Look, I get it. But how the hell was I supposed to find a .22 hidden under the guy's balls," she continues. " _And_ he was f-cking double jointed!"

He shakes his head and takes a breath.

"Show me."

Her head pops up from filling out the subsequent paperwork from the incident.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said," he asserts. "Show me."

"I don't need to prove anything-

"Then prove it to _yourself_ ," Elliot interrupts. "Show me how thorough you can be."

Eying him over the short expanse of their desks, she knows he won't be letting this go any time soon. She exhales with exasperation then slams her pen down.

"Fine," Olivia says, getting up in a huff.

He follows as she leads the way up to the cribs. It's late but in case someone should walk in, having him bent over a table with her searching his body wouldn't look too kosher. There are enough rumors circulating about them without that happening.

Once upstairs, Elliot moves to the back of the room to make sure they're alone before rejoining her. After placing two hands against the wall, he stands with his feet apart and waits.

"Okay," he says. "Go ahead."

She steps up to begin at his shoulders, fans out to his wrists and pats him down left to right, front to back, head to toe just as she was taught in the academy. It takes all of thirty seconds to complete the search.

"There," Olivia quips. "Happy?"

"Hell no," he responds, turning to face her, hands on his hips. "Try it again, _slow_ it down and be more thorough."

She's long since tired of this side of Elliot, still thinking he has something to teach her like she's brand new off the street.

' _If he wants to be searched,'_ she thinks. _'I'll search him.'_

Olivia steps up behind him again, letting her hands rest on his shoulders for a second or two longer than necessary. Slowly she glides them from the nape of his neck down to his wrists then beneath and along his biceps to his armpits. Her hands smooth down his sides around his waist then up his chest.

She could swear he's stopped breathing.

Her warm palms slide down his abdomen and into his pockets, turning them inside out. He can feel the heat through the thin material. She continues, with his back pockets doing the same and palming his butt in the process. With one hand in the small of his back, she leans to one side and then the other checking the outside of his legs.

"Shall I continue?" Olivia whispers into his ear.

Elliot swallows harshly as she sees him simply nod.

Her hands slide up the inside of his legs, adeptly cupping him before slowly dragging her palm towards the back of him before letting go.

"There," she says as he turns to face her, tucking his pockets back in. "Was that _thorough_ enough or will you be lodging a formal complaint?"

He stands there sheepishly, hand on the back of his neck looking at the floor before meeting her eyes again.

"Uh…no," he answers. "I won't be doin' that," he continues. "And I'm sorry, I guess it's been a ridiculously long day."

"Made longer by the argument about my lack of basic police skills."

"And," he continues, ignoring the dig. "As for your ability to conduct pat searches," he asserts before turning to leave. "I'm more than satisfied."

"Glad one of us is," she says under her breath.

"What was that?" He asks, facing her again.

"Nothing."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"So you didn't say anything about not being satisfied?"

The man has the hearing of a dog sometimes.

It's Friday night, they've both been stuck at the station for nearly twenty-four hours living off vending machine food, take-out and coffee in order to close the latest case and she doesn't have the energy for her normal filter where he's concerned.

"I said, I'm glad one of us is," Olivia repeats.

Elliot stands before her, arms crossed against his chest with an eyebrow raised and one side of his lip turned up in a smirk.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She sees the challenge in his eyes, takes in his stance and general cocky demeanor and makes a decision. To hell with explaining, Olive steps right up to him, palms his face and presses her lips against his. His mind goes blank as she suckles his bottom lip before stealing into his mouth to deepen the kiss.

A few seconds later she releases him after coming to her senses, realizing she's kissing her partner. Divorced or not, it isn't a good idea.

"Sorry," she manages, moving around him and towards the exit. "I…I shouldn't have done that," she adds, before quickly opening the door and rushing off.

After Elliot snaps out of having shared a passionate kiss with the woman of many of his late night dreams, he rushes after her. But by the time he gets back down to the squad room, she's gone.

Kicking himself seems like a great idea right about now.

A woman like Olivia, decides to put her mouth on his and he can't come back to himself long enough to fully participate let alone stop her from leaving.

"Great," Elliot says, talking to the four walls of the bull pen. "Monday's gonna suck."

They'll probably spend the whole day avoiding eye contact, trying not to come within a foot of touching each other or be alone any longer than they have to be. He grudgingly grabs his work satchel and stuffs it with some file folders to occupy his night because there's no way in hell he's sleeping.

Two hours later he's showered, clean shaven and feeling human again. He dresses in a t-shirt and a pair of old NYPD sweats and is just about to dig into his beef and broccoli when there are several unexpected knocks at his door. Eying the wall clock in his kitchen, he sees it's nearly midnight.

After looking through the peep hole, he's surprised to find Olivia waiting on the other side. A grown man shouldn't have butterflies in his stomach. Elliot takes a couple of deep breaths before turning the knob.

"Hey," he says, widening the door to let her in.

"Hey," she replies, walking in past him.

She obviously went home and showered too, now wearing jeans and casual blouse in place of the business attire she donned earlier.

"What's up?" He asks, letting her take the lead since she's come to him.

She tried to sleep after her long hot shower. Though physically drained from all the time spent on the latest case, she was unable to find rest.

"I uh…wanted to make sure that we were good," Olivia explains, having barely moved from her spot near his door, a hand stuffed into her back pocket while the other clutches her bag. She too understands how weird they can be with one another when things get too personal between them.

And slipping her tongue into his mouth definitely qualifies.

"Yeah sure," he says, walking to the sofa to pick up his box of Chinese. "Why wouldn't we be?"

Is he serious?

"Are you serious?" She asks. "First I practically molest you during our little practice session and if that wasn't enough I-

"Kissed me," he finishes. "I remember," he adds, trying to appear unbothered as he continues enjoying his beef and broccoli.

"Well it shouldn't have happened," Olivia asserts, finally joining him on the sofa but keeping her distance.

After having a few more bites, he rests his fork and the white box on the coffee table to focus his attention on her.

"So why did you?" Elliot asks, genuinely curious.

She sighs heavily, threading her fingers through her hair. How much should she tell him? Both of them have a history of holding back from one another. Then again the jig is up and he's not going to buy that she did those things, simply because she was too mentally exhausted to know what she was doing.

If the tables were turned, that explanation wouldn't work for her either.

"If I'm being honest," she begins. "It's not the first time I've thought about it," she reveals. "I guess tonight, I just…I decided not to resist temptation," she adds. "So again, I'm sorry and this doesn't have to-

"Change anything?"

"Yes," she answers. "Not unless you want it to."

"And that means… _what_ exactly?"

Suddenly she's willing to put herself out there and risk more instability in her already unstable life by altering the dynamics of their partnership.

"I'm curious to know if…what you," Olivia tries. "El did you feel _anything_ at all when I kissed you?"

He leans back against the sofa pillows, rubbing his hands over his thighs as is a nervous habit of his. With his lack of a response due to shock, he can't blame her for thinking the kiss didn't do anything for him.

"Of _course_ I did Liv," he answers. "How could I not?"

"Well…

She needs to know she's not alone in this, that there is something between them and that she hasn't been the only one fighting it. Olivia wants to know that Elliot has also been trying _not_ to touch her, _not_ to look to long, not to _want_ her.

"I wasn't expectin' it but I definitely enjoyed it," he admits, smirking. "We've always had chemistry Liv," he points out. "So yeah, sparks, heat, fireworks, I felt it all," he concludes.

Relieved by his response, she manages a smile.

"So…we've established that there's an attraction," she begins.

"True," he says, sitting forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. "But we work together," he adds, eying her sideways. "We're partners."

"There is that," she agrees, returning his gaze.

The two stare at each other for long moments, his eyes dipping to her mouth, while she bites her bottom lip. The action does nothing to deter his gaze or quell the desire that's deepening the blue of his eyes. She has no idea what's gotten into her all the sudden. If ever they crossed the line, Olivia always expected him to be the initiator.

But if he's not going to take the hint…

"I should probably get going," she decides, abruptly getting up from the sofa. "See you Monday."

"Sure…right," Elliot reluctantly agrees. "Monday."

He walks her to the door, pausing there once they reach the short distance.

"You sure you don't wanna stay?" He asks. "I have those pot stickers you like," he informs her with a grin.

"I shouldn't," she excuses, but contradicts herself by putting her purse on the small foyer table.

"We have the weekend off," he reminds her.

"It's late," she continues, yet allows him to take her jacket and toss it on the sofa.

Olivia stands, arms at her sides, refusing to be the one to initiate contact this time. She can only hope that they're as in sync as they've always been. Elliot reaches down, takes both hands in his and lifts her arms to place around his neck. Then, ever so slowly, he decides he needs a do-over from her earlier move, as her covers her mouth with his.

There's no daylight between their bodies as he takes a small nibble on her lower lip before sampling her as if she's his favorite ice cream. The shock of her initial kiss in the locker room has long since worn off and now all he can think is, _finally_.

"You taste good," she says, between kisses.

Olivia divests him of his t-shirt with nimble fingers, impatient to get her hands on the heat of his toned flesh. She trails a path of fevered, open-mouthed kisses from his neck to his collar bone.

"Should we really be doing this?" He asks, though his hands on her ass would seem to belie his hesitance.

"You wanna stop?" She questions him, abruptly halting her actions.

After seeing the flush of her cheeks, the want in her eyes and the quick rise and fall of her breasts, any doubt he has is instantly extinguished. How the hell is he supposed to be rational witnessing a turned on Olivia Benson?

Elliot picks her up bride-style, carrying her to his bedroom.

The entire night is spent there, exploring and pleasing one another, playing out their long held fantasies. And despite trying to be productive with things like case files or laundry, Elliot and Olivia spend the weekend reliving their first night together, alternating between her apartment and his.

The trust between them allows for the type of physical connection neither has experienced with another. And in between their sexual interludes, they get acquainted with delivery, binge watch Netflix, make out like teenagers and talk as if they've known each other since they were kids.

When Monday morning comes around Olivia awakens an hour before he does. She showers and borrows a t-shirt and sweatpants that hang from her small waist, writes him a note and leaves it on his pillow as he slumbers. She goes home, changes into work attire and manages to make it to the squad on time.

Where Elliot avoids her all day.

She zigs, he zags.

There's a court case she spends in prep with the ADA so she can't pin him down. He helps Fin chase leads on a recent rape/homicide out of Chelsea and purposely tries to seem busier than he actually is.

When Elliot returns that night to see her desk lamp off and her jacket gone, he exhales a sigh of relief. Having been dropped off by his partner of the day, he strolls through the bullpen to get his car keys so he can head home.

After grabbing some files he makes a beeline for the elevator. When it dings to sound the arrival of the car, he's more than surprised to see her stepping off.

"What are you-

"Forgot my purse," Olivia says. "Got all the way downstairs and realized I didn't have it."

"I hate when that happens."

"Forget your purse often?" She asks, making an attempt at a joke.

"No," he smiles. "I-

"I knew what you meant," she interrupts.

"Okay," Elliot says. "Guess I'll see you in the mornin'," he continues, walking past her and into the waiting elevator car.

"That's it?"

"I don't…I don't really know what to say here," he excuses, holding the door open.

"Guess that's why you've been dodging me all day."

"I haven't been…

When she fixes him with a look, he doesn't bother finishing his sentence.

"You're right," he offers, stepping off the car altogether. "I've just…I've never," Elliot pauses, looking back and forth down the hallway to make sure there are no prying ears. "I've never slept with someone I've worked with before," he says having lowered his voice.

After meeting Jo Marlowe she wants to call bullshit. But as pissed as she is from his avoidance, bringing that up would only serve to make things worse. They still have to work together.

"So what was the plan then?" Olivia asks. "Steer clear of me until retirement?" She goes on. "Kind of hard to do since we're partners."

"No, course not," he contends.

Olivia takes a breath and shakes her head as she rubs circles on her temple, momentarily closing her lids.

"Maybe we should just pretend the whole weekend never happened," she suggests, meeting his eyes again.

He gets instant mental pictures of their hands and mouths all over one another and reaches a swift conclusion.

"Pretty sure that's not possible," he admits. "Why don't you go ahead and grab your purse and I'll give you a lift.

"You know what?" She begins. "Don't put yourself out," she adds, stalking away from him.

When she returns she's surprised to find him still waiting by the elevators.

"I told you, I'll find my own way home."

The next day after the last time they had such a personal conversation, she requested another partner and left for Computer Crimes. They hadn't so much as hugged at that point. With what's happened between them, Elliot wouldn't put it past her to change her name and move to Belize. He'll not leave her drawing her own conclusions this time about the apparently confusing bullshit that comes out his mouth.

No way is he making that mistake again.

"Please," he urges. "I admit it. I was an asshole for ducking you," he continues. "And we need to talk so please let's just…can we do that?"

She hears the genuineness of his plea and the sincerity in his voice and decides to give him the opportunity to explain himself. After all, Olivia can count on one hand the number of times he's ever said _please_ to her. And he's just now said it twice.

She didn't think it was in Elliot's vocabulary.

A simple nod from her brings a slight grin to his face as he boards the waiting elevator car behind her. He has no idea what he's going to say to make things better, smooth things over or more importantly get back to some semblance of what they were before their weekend, but he knows he has to try.

Having spent Sunday at Elliot's and only dropping by her place long enough to shower and change for work, Olivia didn't remember what shape she'd left her apartment in. Thank God it's not a mess.

"Be right back."

She beelines to her bedroom, removes her shield and weapon to put into her side table before swapping out her work garb for yoga pants and a tank top. When she returns to her living room, she half expected him to have chickened out and left.

But he's still there, standing near her front door looking mildly uncomfortable. There's a good chance he'd be more relaxed in an interrogation room with a perp than dealing with his angry partner.

' _Good,'_ she thinks.

Because Olivia spent the entire day with a headache and a nauseous stomach, feeling like she had a sign around her neck that said, _'I slept with my partner'_. It was only paranoia that had her believing people were whispering about her, saying her name with negative and judgmental connotations.

So, the fact that he ignored her only stood to make her day about a million times worse.

After grabbing a beer from the fridge and not offering him one, Olivia relaxes herself in a corner of her sofa, plants a foot beneath her butt and waits, steeling herself for the inevitable brush-off she thinks is coming.

"You wanted to talk…so talk."

Elliot crosses the room and she watches him display a moment of hesitance before joining her on the couch.

"I'm sorry…about how I treated you."

"I know," she says, taking a sip from her bottle. "You've said that already."

The slight but insistent pounding in her head is making her very short on patience.

"This weekend was great," he tells her. "One of the best I've had in an embarrassingly long time," he adds. "And despite the fact that I acted like a jackass, I need you to know that I don't regret a single second of it."

If this is the part where he tries to let her down easy, she doesn't want to hear it.

"Look," Olivia says, getting up suddenly. "It was fun for me too," she adds, walking towards the door. "But you were right, we work together so, let's just stick to that."

He's completely dumbfounded watching her standing in her small foyer with the door open.

"What?" He asks, incredulously.

There's no way in hell she's going to have some melodramatic breakdown in front him after having initiated the whole mess to begin with.

"I…it was a mistake," she continues. "I get that now, so…I'll uh…I'll just see you in the morning."

Elliot abruptly gets up, walks to the door and pushes it closed again, nearly slamming it.

"What are you doin'?" He asks, crowding her personal space. "I thought we were gonna talk about this."

"What's the point?" She counters, returning to the sofa. "It's painfully obvious this shouldn't have happened and we're in agreement about that so-

"The hell we are," he seethes. "I just told you that I _don't_ regret this weekend," he adds, following her. "I thought you were pissed at me because you believed I thought otherwise, and now that I tell you that's not true…you wanna kick me out?" He asks. "I just…I don't f*cking get you Olivia!"

"If you're so damn happy about it," she responds in kind, standing. "Then why the hell did you spend the day with your head in the sand?"

"I don't know!"

"You don't know?" She asks as if it's the most ridiculous response he could've come up with. "What the hell kind of answer is that!"

Elliot sees the fire in her eyes, the quick rise and fall of her chest, how her fists are clenched at her side and it reminds him of their passionate weekend, therefore taking the wind right out of his sails.

"I was scared," he confesses, nearly whispering.

" _What_?"

"I said, I was scared okay? You scare the shit out of me Olivia."

Well how do you like that? He watches her hands unclench, her breathing slow and the fire of her eyes turn to mere embers as she resumes her spot in the corner of her sofa.

"How…why-

"Because," he starts as he joins her again, their knees touching. "I was married for a long time, I've only been divorced for a year and a half," he continues. "I wanted…

"What?"

"To play the field, sow my wild oats, enjoy dating like I didn't really have the chance to do before I became a responsible adult, a husband, a father," he explains.

Olivia thinks he's scared of losing their partnership if Elliot doesn't want anything more than what they already have.

"Look…we're partners, but more importantly we're friends," she reminds him. "I enjoyed this weekend too," she continues. "But maybe that's all it was supposed to be…just fun…temporary," she adds, trying to give him an out. "So we're good."

She picks up her beer again, taking a sip, expecting him to thank her, agree and bid her goodnight.

"That's the thing Liv," he continues, surprising her by taking the hand not holding the beer into his warm palm. "It didn't feel temporary to me."

The two were vegging out on his sofa with the television when he made her laugh by confessing a secret love for old musicals. They talked about everything from the first years of their partnership to the rough patches they've encountered since. Of course he enjoyed the physical intimacy, but those three nights deepened their emotional connection as well.

 _Coffee's on, see you at work. – Liv_

It was that damn note.

Elliot looked at the beautiful penmanship and wanted to see more of those little messages written to him. Not because it was so personal because it was anything but. It's because it wasn't from his _partner_. It was from this whole other woman he'd spent the weekend discovering. And Elliot was horrified to find that the freedom he thought he wanted as a newly single man, was so quickly replaced by the desire to keep _that_ Olivia to himself.

"What are you saying?" She asks.

"I'm saying I'm not the _'date just to have someone_ _warming my bed'_ kind of guy," he asserts. "And I don't know that I ever was," he offers. "I just…I had a little trouble reconciling the woman I shared the weekend with and my partner," he confesses.

"I'm the same person."

"I know," Elliot rasps, turning her hand over and rubbing circles in her palm with his thumb. "It scared me to realize how much I want _both_ sides of you."

Olivia's eyes grow large with that revelation, "Oh," she manages.

It's like his hypnotizing her with his words as well as his ministrations.

"I wasn't lyin' when I said I enjoyed this weekend," he contends. "I uh…I didn't want you to leave," he admits. "And between the new case with Fin and everything else that goes on at the squad, I couldn't figure out how to say all that."

"Until now," she points out.

"Yeah," he tells her. "So…

"So…

Olivia was so twisted all day about being ignored that she hadn't thought about the outcome of a conversation like this. There's no surprise that she wants him physically, she has for far longer than she cares to admit. And she knows, _absolutely_ knows that she's a bit frightened herself about how much she wants the things she experienced with him to be more than a single occurrence.

Because after they'd burned through the fire of lust, they started to make love.

Elliot whispered to her, kissed every inch of skin and held her eyes through their climactic moments. He awakened her for more by drawing lazy circles on the small of her bare back. And though cooking for any man isn't something she often does, Olivia found that she wanted to do it for Elliot. She concludes that she needs more than a weekend with him.

"What do _you_ want?" Elliot asks.

"I want _not_ to be just as chicken-shit as you are about needing to see you for something other than a case," she answers with a grin.

His smile immediately matches hers.

"Why don't we…slow things down then," he suggests.

Olivia smirks at this.

"You don't think it's a little late for that?"

"What I mean is…maybe we don't have sex again right away," he suggests, prompting raised eyebrows from her.

"Really?" She asks. " _Now_ you wanna be old-fashioned?"

"It's not old-fashioned," he corrects. "It's what a man _should_ do when he wants a woman to know how much she means to him."

She drops his hand, puts down her beer and straddles his lap as she wraps her arms around his neck.

"I'm tryin' to be a gentleman here and you're killin' me," Elliot comments. "You deserve flowers for no reason Liv," he tries as she kisses his neck. "Poetry."

"I've had all that," she tells him, pulling back to look into his eyes. "And I'm not saying I don't want any of that with you," she adds. "But that's usually from someone trying to get to know me _or_ trying to get into my pants."

"Well I've already done both," he says before giving her a short laugh. "But that doesn't mean I'm not gonna treat you like the lady you are."

"That's great," Olivia says. "You can woo me later."

"Later?"

"Yeah," she says, punctuating her intentions by rolling her hips once against his rapidly growing erection. "As for right now…

She leans in, kissing him sensuously slow, prompting a guttural moan from him.

"Right now," Olivia repeats. "I just wanna be satisfied again," she tells him, eluding to her statement in the locker room that started them down this road.

She shrieks and laughs as Elliot hurriedly picks her up, legs around his waist as he carries her to her bedroom to fulfill her request. And he does, three times in various ways before they pass out from exhaustion instead of merely drifting off to sleep.

This time it's he who gets up early enough to leave before work. After kissing her on the cheek he starts a pot of coffee before he makes an exit, knowing she'll get up the moment the aroma hits her nose.

They manage to work together as if nothing happens and around noon, a delivery guy arrives with a large bouquet of multicolored peonies. Her favorite flowers.

"Delivery for Detective Olivia Benson," he says.

"Uh, that's me," she says, standing to receive them.

She eyes her partner across their desks as he shrugs his shoulders, trying to hide his smile.

"Wow Liv," Munch says. "Somebody is really trying to impress the hell out of you."

"Definitely," Fin chimes in. "That had to set him back a penny or two."

"I didn't even know you were seein' anyone," her partner comments. "Who's the lucky guy?" He asks for appearances. "Anybody we know?"

"No," she answers, smelling the flowers. "We've only recently met."

It's half true. The Elliot she knows now, the one that likes old black and white Gene Kelly musicals, complemented her special dinner omelets and cuddled with her on a lazy Saturday afternoon, isn't a man she knew before.

"Uh oh," Munch tells them. "This is the part where he gets all overprotective and pretends not to be jealous."

"Give her a break man," Fin adds. "She deserves someone to treat her nice after the bullsh*t she puts up with from the pervs on this job."

"Couldn't agree more," says her partner, holding up his hands in surrender. "I just wanna make sure the guy's not some asshole."

"Right," Fin tells him. "Cuz one asshole in her life is enough," he digs.

"Thanks a lot man."

After Fin and Munch go back to their paperwork and their phones start ringing, she takes the opportunity to look at the card.

 _Raven hair and sparkling eyes,_

 _mimic beautiful night and twinkling skies,_

 _while daring spirit, promises to give_

 _a spark, an explosion, then inspiration…my Liv._

She fails miserably at trying to hide the gleaming smile that sweeps across her face.

"That good huh?" Elliot asks. "You must've made an impression."

Olivia bites her lip and says, "Guess so."

Then he leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk as he clasps his hands in front of him.

"I hope he'll make you happy," he tells her in a low voice.

"He already does."

The END.

 **Don't be shy kids. Feel free to review!**


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